Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot
by Swishy Willow Wand
Summary: "Um," Rue whispers in the middle of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, holding her sheet music over her face and shifting closer, "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but there's some guy out there staring at you." Katniss runs into someone unexpected while caroling at the hospital. Written for promptsinpanem's Holidays in Panem, round 2.


The hospital atrium is brightly lit and excessively decorated; the Christmas tree I stand by has large silver decorations easily the size of my head, so shiny I can see my reflection scowling back as I huddle as far away as politely possible from the group of carolers I'm stuck with. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I eagerly pull it out, glad for a reason to avoid eye contact a little longer.

_**Primmy [DEC 24 6:57 PM]**__ Hey big sister? :)_

_**Katniss [DEC 24 6:58 PM]**__ Yessss?_

_**Primmy [DEC 24 6:58 PM]**__ I might be too busy working rn to sing but I'm not too busy to see you being a big antisocial porcupine :)))_

I scowl, looking up from my screen in time to see my sister slip her cellphone into the pocket of her white coat and smile brightly. Prim is leaning against the back wall of the room, the soft blue of her scrubs hidden by the official white coat that is still so big on her small frame. She wiggles her fingers in a cheerful wave when she sees the glare I level at her.

_**Katniss [DEC 24 6:59 PM]**__ -_- I am not a porcupine_

Prim glances around surreptitiously before she reaches for her phone again; even this far away I can see the way her pale eyebrows raise in teasing disbelief, and it's not hard to imagine the snort of laughter.

Because, okay, I'm a little bit of a porcupine.

The young girl beside me turns her head at the sound of my soft laugh. "What's so funny?" she asks curiously. Her smile is shy and sweet, and despite her dark skin and tightly wound curls she reminds me so much of Prim at that age that I smile back without thinking. The nametag on her red and green sweater tells me her name is Rue.

"See that woman over there?" I ask, pointing across the room. Prim is bent over now, talking enthusiastically to a patient in a wheelchair, her blonde ponytail swishing as she gestures. "That's my sister. She was being mean to me."

I tilt my phone towards her and Rue grins, furrowing her brow skeptically as she reads it. "Why does she think you're being a porcupine?"

I shrug, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "She just knows I don't want to be here. We, um, usually do this together but she's a _grown up_ now and she works here, so she talked me into caroling by myself." As if she can sense me talking about her, Prim looks over at me and visibly perks up at the sight of me talking to someone.

The girl smiles brightly. "You're not by yourself." She's so sincere that it's impossible not to mirror her enthusiasm.

The pianist, a sweet lady named Mags who is well into her seventies and has been leading the caroling at the hospital since before Prim and I started more than ten years ago, turns to face us all. Her smile is gummy and wide as she settles down at the piano and gestures for us to open our music.

It's easier than I expected to relax into the music without Prim standing beside me and holding my hand; even I can hear the way my voice rises clear above the rest of the carolers. The people beside me keep darting their eyes towards me and I would falter if it weren't for the reassuring way Mags beams at me, the same look she gave me when I was thirteen and terrified, like my voice is something to be proud of. When I look, Prim is singing along happily and it gives me strength.

She ducks out of the room halfway through O Come All Ye Faithful, aiming a smile at me over her shoulder that I'm too busy singing to return. She'd warned me that this time of night would be busy with crazy Christmas Eve accidents, all burnt off eyebrows from getting to close to the fireplace and idiots with reindeer related injuries.

The crowd watching is a mix of patients and visiting family members, all with expressions on their faces ranging from tearful holiday cheer to complete boredom. It's not hard to remember the way I felt when I was the one in the audience, how it felt to hear Dad's favorite Christmas songs while he was sick. It's why we started caroling here the year after he died.

"Um," Rue whispers in the middle of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, holding her sheet music over her face and shifting closer, "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but there's some guy out there staring at you."

I frown, looking up and scanning the crowd. "They're all looking at us," I mutter, hastily looking back at the music when Mags winks at me knowingly. I don't look back up until it's over, flipping through the papers in my hand to find Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Rue nudges me this time.

"I swear, there's this guy looking at _you_," she insists. I roll my eyes at her and she grins excitedly. "He's kind of cute. No, don't look!"

I groan in exasperation, scowling at her. "This is worse than high school."

Rue grins. "I'm still in high school," she teases.

The man beside Rue clears his throat pointedly and we both giggle, quieting down as piano starts up again. This time I don't look at the words, instead peering at the faces in the crowd. And they're all looking at us, really, it's hard to notice if there's someone in particular focusing on me.

I see Prim walk back in after one verse, meeting my eyes and waving before settling back in her place against the wall.

"_Here we are as in olden days_," I sing louder, hoping that she'll hear me and it will make her happy. If the smile on her face is any indication, she hears me. "_Happy golden days of yore._"

Rue elbows me in the ribs. "The guy beside your sister," she mutters quietly, eyes wild.

"_Faithful friend who are dear to us,"_ she's leaning down again, speaking to the guy in the wheelchair. _"Gather near to us once more."_

He's facing forward this time and when I look at him, and to my surprise he's looking straight at me—

_Oh_.

I trail off in the middle of the song, mouth slack in surprise as I stare at him. The distance makes his features less distinct than I remember, but I know if we were closer his eyes would be a bright, familiar blue.

Rue grins smugly as she catches sight of my expression. "Cute, right?" I make a strangled sound in the back of my throat, loud enough to make the carolers in front of us turn around and frown. I whisper a quick apology, heat rushing to my face as I dart my eyes down to stare uncomprehendingly at the music. I mouth along, too distracted to sing.

_What is Peeta Mellark doing here?_

I chance a look back up. Peeta looks sheepish, the embarrassed look on his face one I recognize. Behind him Prim wear a shit eating grin, and her eyebrows waggle suggestively as she winks at me. I glare at her and I see her laugh, reaching for her phone again. A few seconds later my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I mouth my way through the next few songs, glancing up at the pair of them more times than remotely necessary. It's not until Mags stops for requests from the audience that I get the chance to sneak and check my text messages.

_**Primmy [DEC 24 7:35 PM]**__ OMG I wish you could've seen the look on your face_

_**Primmy [DEC 24 7:41 PM]**__ There's a visitor's pass for you at the front desk, find me on the second floor_

_**Primmy [DEC 24 7:46 PM]**__ Don't you dare leave without talking to me_

_**Primmy [DEC 24 7:47 PM]**__ I MEAN IT ;)_

Rue laughs at the look on my face. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," I wince, pocketing my phone again. "I um, know that cute guy. I…kind of grew up with that cute guy."

She whoops in excitement, looking over at him so obviously that there's no way he doesn't know I'm talking about him.

I am so screwed.

. . .

Prim is at the nurse's station on the first floor talking to a pretty redheaded nurse when I find her, pale eyes lighting up lighting up as she sees me walk up to them.

"You are evil," I accuse when I reach her. The redhead looks at me with wide, surprised eyes but Prim just smiles and waves her away, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck and grinning at me wickedly as she links her arm through mine.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she says, the very picture of innocence as she tugs me down the hallway. "Now hurry up."

"Where are we going?" I try to slip away from her but she moves behind me instead, planting her palms firmly on my back and moving me along.

She sounds far too pleased when she answers me. "To go see an old friend."

"Oh my god," I look at her with no small amount of horror. "Is _this_ why you were so insistent that I carol without you?"

"Katniss," she warns through her teeth, smiling brightly at a passing nurse as she pushes me forward down the corridor. Her hands are insistent as she presses against the small of my back, surprisingly strong despite their small size.

"It is," I exclaim, craning my head to look at her over my shoulder. She narrows her eyes at me, looking uncharacteristically bossy.

"It wouldn't kill you," she mutters, smile still pasted on her face, "To speak to the super cute guy you had a huge crush on in high school—"

"Did not!"

"—who literally remembered so much about you that he recognized me right away as your sister and asked like a million questions about you."

"That's creepy," I mutter, though the way my heart starts hammering in my chest seems to disagree.

"It's fucking _adorable_." She shoves me towards a room on the left. "Now play nice, it's after visiting hours."

The lights are dim and the curtains are drawn around the first bed; we pad quietly past that one, slipping through the gap in the curtains. The TV on the wall across from his bed is on, quietly playing the annoying Christmas movie with the blond kid who wants a gun. A machine beeps in the corner, attached to him through thin tubes that run to the IV on the back of his hand. He startles when he notices us enter.

"Peeta," Prim greets eagerly, finally taking her hands off of me. She bumps her hip against mine as she moves around me to get to him, checking the fluids he's hooked up to. "I brought a visitor, I hope that's okay." His cheeks turn red as he turns to look at me.

Even in the dim glow of the TV I realize that of course I was right — this close his eyes are just as bright blue as I remember, familiar from the sheer number of times I caught his gaze trained on me in school over the years. I'm just as nervous to talk to him now as I was all the way back then, despite the sweetness of the apologetic smile he sends my way.

"Hey, Katniss." He licks his lips, clearly nervous and embarrassed as Prim grins like a maniac and pretends to check his heart rate and looks between the two of us like she's watching tennis.

I drop into the chair beside his bed and pull my legs up. "Hey Peeta."

It's strange, the way it feels like there's a history here. There's not really — we went to school together for twelve years, sharing a handful of classes and every lunch period in high school. Once we were partnered together for a chemistry assignment; it was the most time we spent together, more than a week of afternoons spent in the library as we researched. He had been so surprisingly earnest and sweet, telling quiet jokes just to make me smile. He'd drawn this elaborate poster to go along with the paper I was researching. I remember being distracted by the same long blond eyelashes that blink slowly at me now. We hadn't talked much after that, but it would be a lie to say I hadn't thought about him at all.

"I had no idea you were in town," I admit slowly, side eyeing Prim as she takes her time. "Or that, you know, you were my sister's patient."

She shrugs. "I must've forgotten to tell you." His eyes meet mine and we both snort. Prim, for all her deviousness, is a terrible liar. She scribbles something on his chart and beams at us. "Well, you're looking good Peeta." We both ignore the way she winks at me. "Katniss, I know you took the bus so if you don't mind waiting here until I finish my rounds I can take you home."

"Oh, uh," I sputter, "I mean, Peeta's probably tired—"

"I'm not." He blushes again as we both snap our focus back on him. "I mean, if you want. You can stay. I wouldn't mind." The smile he gives me is so sweet with just the right amount of shyness, and I can't help but smile back softly. I can practically hear Prim melt.

"Excellent." She claps her hands together, slinging her stethoscope back around her neck and heading out. "Perfect. I'll text you when I'm ready, then." Before I can protest again she has disappeared and we're left alone. It's quiet save for the low sounds of the movie and the person in the other bed snoring.

"She's quite a force of nature, huh?" he asks finally, scratching the back of his neck.

I groan, pulling my legs closer to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea. I mean, she had to get it from somewhere, right?" He grins, looking at me thoughtfully as I frown in confusion. "You never did see it, though. The effect you have."

"What effect is that?" I ask. The answering look he gives me is so serious that I lean back in my chair just to be a few more inches away from him.

He laughs so suddenly that it surprises me; he runs his fingers through his curls, which are cropped closer to his head than I remember. It looks good on him. Although, I mean, he just kind of looks good in general. Or great. Whatever.

"Sorry, I'm being weird," he apologizes. "This just isn't the way I expected to see you again, that's all."

The implication makes me bite my lip, trying to hide a smile. "What, you didn't expect to see me at the hospital singing cheesy Christmas songs with strangers who wear Rudolph sweaters on purpose five and a half years after graduation?"

Peeta ruffles his hair again. "Guess I just need to stay on my toes as far as you're concerned," he teases. We stare at each other goofily for a long moment, and it's like we're seventeen and back in that library.

"So, sorry your sister trapped you in here with me," he apologizes. "It's…definitely my fault."

"Oh?"

He blushes again and it's so cute I feel actually nauseous. "Yeah. I — uh, she came into my room while I was recovering from surgery and I was still pretty hazy from the medicine they gave me. I recognized her right away and," he hangs his head a little, "I might have gotten more excited than strictly necessary."

I sit up straighter. "Excited?"

He shrugs ruefully. "Well, it's not every day you run into the sister of the girl you had a crush on for twelve years or anything." I feel my eyes go wide and when he chances another look at me he doesn't seem too disappointed by whatever is written on my face.

I move my mouth but no words come out. Finally, I shake my head. "So, um — what, what did you have surgery on?"

Peeta studies me carefully. "Camping accident," he explains seriously before pulling back the sheet. The leg closest to me is cut off smoothly above the knee and I gasp.

"Oh my god, Peeta—"

He bursts into laughter. "You should've seen the look on your face," he wheezes, clutching his chest and wincing through his smile. "I'm just kidding, Katniss. I had my appendix taken out." He pulls his shirt up to show me the tiny incisions on his torso and I swallow hard at the sight of his smooth, pale skin. His confident smirk falls when I punch him hard on the thigh.

"That was rude," I scowl halfheartedly. The sheet is still off of his leg and I can't help but look at it again. "What, um? I mean, the last time I saw you—"

Peeta shrugs. "Car accident my freshman year of college." He's still smiling but I can see the way his shoulders have tightened, the look he gives me laced with apprehension.

"You should stick with the camping accident story," I say lightly, and the smile he gives me is so grateful that I know it's my turn to blush.

"I only use that one to impress pretty girls," he says with a wink.

I roll my eyes. "Oh, it's working."

Peeta snorts. "Well there's not exactly much competition here." As if on cue, the man in the other bed lets out a particularly loud snore.

I can barely help it when I lean forward and rest my hands on his bed. "You wouldn't have much competition anywhere," I assure him, and the confession is almost six years late but it feels good.

The sound of my phone vibrating breaks the spell between us and I look away, fishing my phone out of my jeans.

_**Primmy [DEC 24 8:39 PM]**__ Rounds are over! Ready?_

_**Primmy [DEC 24 8:39 PM]**__ Don't rush on my account ;)_

"Prim all done?" he asks. I look back up at him and he smiles wistfully. I nod but don't move.

"I, um, I'm glad I got to see you tonight." My face feels hot and it's hard to look at him.

"Me too." His voice is soft. "Except—" I look up sharply to find him grinning once again. "I didn't get to hear you sing my favorite Christmas song."

I smile. "What's your favorite?"

He licks his lips again and it's distracting. "Auld Lang Syne."

"That's," I hope he can't tell how flustered I am. "That's more of a New Year's song."

Peeta shrugs. "It still seems fitting."

"Maybe—" My phone buzzes again but I don't look at it. "Maybe I'll sing it for you next time."

He's obviously surprised. "Next time?" he asks eagerly.

I shrug. "Maybe, um. We could get together on New Year's Eve or something. I'll do a private show." His eyes go wide. "Oh god, not like — not like that. I just meant—"

His laugh is so loud that the other patient actually groans. I stand up quickly. "Just — I, um. Just get my number from Prim or something."

"Katniss," he interrupts, leaning forward and reaching for my hand. His hand is surprisingly rough as it slides over my skin, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze. "That sounds great."

I nod stupidly, backing away before I do something dumb like kiss him. His bright blue eyes follow me as I move towards the curtains. "Okay. So, uh. I'll see you."

I slip out before he can answer, my blood thrumming in my ears as I rush towards the door. Prim is leaning against the wall while she waits for me, and she breaks into an idiotic dance when she sees the look on my face.

"Tell me everything," she demands.

"Okay but," I falter as she links our arms together. "You just — um, will you make sure you give him my number?"

Her squeal is deafening.

* * *

><p><em>Written for promptsinpanem Holidays in Panem, round 2. Part 2 coming (hopefully) before the new year. <em>_Find me on tumblr for drabbles, fic talk, and too many text posts: swishywillow._


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